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datkid - crud addict lyrics

[produced by leaf dog]

[hook]
“rap game heavy hitters”
“last place you wanna bring the drama at”
“remember i showed you i graze heads”
“29 and 30 emcees, i do ’em dirty”
“rap game heavy hitters”
“last place you wanna bring the drama at”
“remember i showed you i graze heads”
“get my head right to smash your moms”

[datkid]
yo, this is that black leather gloves with the marigold’s underneath sh-t
my patience ain’t as long as my p-n-s
stay out for everything like i need it
take candy from your baby; tell you that “i’m teethin'”
‘do the crime, do the time’
f-ck that, i’m breezin’
babylon; dead
bally, make sure they seen it
lifestyle; hotcakes
demeanor; freezing
slap you in your mouth
then again just for bleedin’
i’m calm nowadays; i ain’t never been tame
i would call half you rappers out
but i can’t remember your names
you got your tongue in my -rs-
i got my head in the game
i might as well do it
either way, i’m gettin’ the blame
yo, contraband wedged in my -rs- crack
one hand in your pocket
the other unclippin’ your chick’s bra strap
i’ll bounce your head off the tarmac
and leave you roadside, without your sh-t, like you just got carjacked
i’m so loose, you can’t tie me down
you know where to find me
f-ck if i might be found
they let me out of jail
bates is like “why’s he out?”
i’m still out here cruddin’ out
how’d you like me now?
that’s real life; you wouldn’t know
you ain’t the real type
i sn-tch handbags, sn-tch mics and steal bikes
can’t nothin’ match what jackin’ you feels like
i do it out of greed, just cause it feels nice
you’re oblivious; i’m sizin’ you up like garms
yeah, i’ll take your b-tch walkies, better watch my charm
can’t seem to keep my hands to myself
or my thoughts in my head
that’s how you b-tches get talked into bed
man your breath smells like my fingers
i wonder why? yeah, i wonder why?
bet she kissed you after; i bring the drama
i was the guy, yeah i was the guy
i’ve earned my status, check my background
bris knows me
i’ll take your door off for your sh-t like it’s po-lice
1-3-1-2 g, f-ck the long arm
when they lift me it’s all tight lips; no speech
i’m on my money game, i bust knuckles in bl–dy states
that “don’t f-ck with me”; cruddy fame
i turn up at the spot, they like “oh, what a bl–dy shame”
but you say it quietly, like my f-ckin’ name

- datkid lyrics

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